


man on the run

by augustfai



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Politics, M/M, White House AU, gratuitous candy crush references, president matsumoto, white house press secretary ninomiya kazunari at your service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augustfai/pseuds/augustfai
Summary: White House AU. Nino doesn’t really care about political scandals: as far as he is concerned, the entirety of Jun’s term so far has just been one giant scandal under the desk in the Oval Office.
Relationships: Matsumoto Jun/Ninomiya Kazunari, Ninomiya Kazunari/Sakurai Sho, Ninomiya Kazunari/Yokoyama Yuu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	man on the run

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Nino Exchange. I apologize sincerely for the confusing country boundaries in this fic. It is AU, so to clarify: they do not live in Japan. They live in a fictionalized country that happens to have a government almost exactly like the United States, even complete with a White House! I do not know anything about how the President’s Cabinet actually works except for what Wikipedia and _Scandal_ have taught me, so there’s that. (Lastly: I am so sorry, Jun. I am so sorry I essentially made you Nixon.)

When Nino flips the channel, Okada is on again.

“I’m sick of this guy,” Nino mumbles. He finishes the last of the water from a bottle—it’s probably not his, but it doesn’t matter, what with the amount of germs he’s already exchanging with these guys—and tosses the empty container onto the other bed. “He’s not even funny.”

“He hates you too.” Yoko is facing the wall and his voice is muffled, directed only to the plaster. “Actually, he really might hate you too.”

The commercials this time are for Candy Crush. Nino fucking hates Candy Crush. He knows Jun likes it, because Jun likes winning, and he plays it all the time on his phone when they’re in the limo. Jun is always saying things like, I beat level thirty-five. I beat level sixty-seven. I entered the dream stage, there are owls there.

Nino always wants to say, really, you’re playing Candy Crush? Why don’t you run this country properly?

But that might be asking for too much.

“Speaking of,” Yoko continues, and sits up in bed. He still has his back to Nino, but he turns his head slightly. There’s a giant red mark on his cheek where he’d had it squished against the bed. “Did you keep your notes from the briefing? I lost mine.”

“That’s classified shit,” Nino says, with mild surprise. “You lost a classified document. A classified government document.”

Yoko shrugs.

\--

Another classified document lost is another regular day at the White House. Despite the complete and utter incompetency of half the presidential staff, Jun’s approval rating is one of the highest a president has ever had at the halfway mark in the past two decades. His State of the Union Addresses also have some of the highest ratings ever, with people flipping channels from popular dramas just to catch a glimpse of their beloved president’s pursed lips and slicked-back hair. Nino bets they don’t even care about what he’s saying. No wonder this country is always on the international news for the slightest things.

Not that Jun is a _bad_ president. He does his job. He’s the symbol of their nation, gleaming and starry-eyed; he has a face that makes you believe in what he’s saying, and _God_ does he say a lot. Jun is the kind of president who talks a lot to cover the fact that he’s not doing anything much. Though that’s nothing new: all the popular presidents have been like that.

That’s why Nino voted for Sho.

“Hey,” Nino says. He and Yoko are sitting on the same bed now—post-sex or pre-sex, Nino can’t remember. When you do it that often with someone you’re always with, the fucks just blur together. “Who’d you vote for?”

Yoko almost loses the cigarette he’s smoking. “What?” He coughs. “I can’t tell you that. We’re not allowed.”

“Oh, okay.” Nino’s lips curl. “So you voted for Sho too.”

Yoko looks at Nino sideways, but doesn’t say anything. If there’s anything Nino knows about Yoko (besides the length of his dick) it’s that he’s not a very good liar.

“’Too?’” Yoko says. “Why don’t you quit, then?”

“It’s a little late for that,” Nino says, and kicks his covers off. “It’s half-term already. If I wanted to quit I’d have done it the day after the election.”

“You sure it’s not just ‘cos you like him?”

Yoko is grinning with his stupid, stupid mouth. Nino knocks his elbow into Yoko’s side, making sure he gets him in the ribs.

“But I bet Sakurai would’ve been a better president,” Yoko says after a bit, when his cigarette is down to mostly ashes. “Not that I know much about politics or whatever. It just seems like it.”

“Yeah.” Nino nods. “He would’ve fired your ass after the first time you lost something, I know that.”

\--

In the background of the Oval Office, someone has a TV on, and Nino can hear Okada’s voice again. It’s the commercial of him on the beach with a comedian, the two of them running through the sand, promoting sunscreen or something like that. There’s a lot of yelling. Nino will see it again later, he’s sure of it.

“You wanted to see me?” Nino says to the room at large.

Jun swivels around in his chair. He _loves_ doing that, even after two years. There’s something about him that can’t get used to this giant important chair in this giant important office. “No,” he says, and pushes aside some papers on the desk. “Who told you that?”

“It’s in my job description,” Nino says. He wants to be hard about it, say it with conviction, but instead he trails off lamely. He doesn’t really feel like arguing with Jun right now. It’ll be summer soon, and this is the season he hates the most—so much heat and sweat under his suit, digging into his pores. It’s hard enough waking up in the morning next to Yoko, of all people. “I work for this government, you know. In case you forgot.”

Jun laughs slightly. “Of course not.”

He points to one of the several chairs lined up in front of him, and Nino plops onto it. He tries to sit properly, but he’s known Jun for too long and he doesn’t really feel like keeping up appearances, even in the Oval Office. “Yoko lost another file,” he says without meaning to.

Jun sighs. “I should just fire him.”

“Don’t,” Nino says, again without meaning to. He’s more tired than he thought. “He works hard, you know. He’s…diligent.”

“That’s what people say about their useless co-workers.” Jun pauses. “And you’re not people. Unless—are you…?”

Nino looks at the ceiling. It’s a very interesting ceiling.

“I don’t care if you are,” Jun goes on, except it kind of sounds like he does. Or maybe Nino is just imagining it. It does feel like he’s going crazy, what with Okada and Yoko and Jun—though it’s been crazy with Jun since the beginning.

“It’s not—” Nino begins. He wants to say that it’s not like that, but the fact of the matter is that Nino is trying to lie to his boss. It is, in reality, like that. “We get along.”

Anyone else might have believed it, but Jun isn't anyone else, and the reason is flimsy enough for Nino to apologize. And he does: he kneels, then crawls, without being asked, into the spacious alcove underneath Jun’s desk, where the carpet sinks under the weight of his knees. Every time Nino does this he wonders how much the carpet costs. It feels softer than his blanket at home, and he managed to sweet-talk one of the cleaning ladies into giving him one from the old linens basket. Nino is not above stealing things from the White House. As far as he’s concerned Jun should just give him a little room to himself under that goddamn desk.

Jun sighs, more languid than his last, and when Nino glances up Jun’s eyes are half-closed.

“What, are you sleepy?” Nino says. “You want me to leave?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just bends his head instead and opens his mouth wide, wide. Jun strains his hips forward, but just glares. He wouldn’t dare make a sound. This room echoes and he has aides outside every door.

But they’ve gone through this. Jun breathes through his nostrils, steady; he’s practiced. And they have a code.

“Tell me more,” Jun says. His voice has dropped several notes, but he just sounds serious, not like he’s making his press secretary give him a blowjob. “About this fellow.”

Nino tries not to laugh (not that he can). _Fellow?_ “Well, Yoko lost the file,” he says, always making sure to talk so that he’s heard, but still close enough to Jun’s cock so that Jun can feel Nino’s breath and the small vibrations of his voice. “But I made a copy.”

Nino replaces his mouth with the palm of his hand, swirling a slow circle over the head. Jun’s eyebrows twitch. “Good,” he says in an exhale. He means _yes, good, keep doing what you’re doing._

Nino could join the goddamn FBI with these new language skills of his.

“Any new leads? Where are you heading next?”

South. Nino is heading south next. He licks gently at Jun’s balls the way he imagines cats lick at milk: testing the waters. “You know,” he says after a moment. “Wherever they tell me to go.”

“No,” Jun says. His voice is a tad more strangled now, but if you knew anything about Okada and Okada’s file, you wouldn’t be surprised. “Stay there. That’s good.”

For a few minutes nobody says anything; Nino is too into his rhythm and Jun is too into Nino. He has one hand threaded through Nino’s hair, gripping sometimes, mostly just petting him, and Nino lost the feeling in his knees long ago even on this blanket-like carpet. But he likes being the one in control, the one calling the shots, just this once.

And if Sho had been elected, Nino would have had that. He would have had to work a lot, but he would’ve been rewarded. It sounds obvious. With Jun, though, not so much.

\--

In the old days, before the factions and the titles, before Yoko’s wet mouth every night, before any houses of theirs were white—before all of that, when they were still real friends and not just two guys working together with the occasional blowjob, Jun promised Nino a spot in the White House.

To this day Nino doesn’t want to know the details. He doesn’t want to think about how Jun pressed him up against the wall in his office, the lights already off so it looked like Jun had already gone home for the day. He doesn’t like to imagine what Jun had to do to so confidently promise Nino a spot in the President’s Cabinet.

“When I win tomorrow,” Jun had said, as if the voting had already stopped and the numbers were being counted, “come work for me.”

Nino had shut his eyes. He still remembers Jun’s body all up on him, hot in hard places, but there was something about him that made the taste in Nino’s mouth go sour, bitter. It was what he didn’t want to know about Jun and Jun’s business behind closed doors.

“I want to work for Sho,” Nino had said, but not very firmly.

“Sho will stay in the Senate,” Jun had said, with all the force that Nino hadn’t managed to muster. “You want to stay here? You hate it here. It’s just five thousand college interns and all that goddamn filibustering. You want to stick around to pour coffee and listen to Sho read the Joy of Cooking out loud?”

Nino had never expected to hesitate.

“Well,” Jun had said after the pause had stretched too long. “You know where to find me.”

In the end, Jun did win—somehow—and Nino accepted his offer. Sho said it would be good for Nino, that Nino could always come back if he wanted to after the experience.

“He won, after all,” Sho had said, smiling in his now-empty campaign room. Everyone on the team had already left, leaving nothing but paperwork behind. “It’s only fair.”

But nothing about it was fair.

\--

Nino is still trying to get the taste out of his mouth when he unlocks the door to the hotel room. He’s already had two glasses of water and a Coke, but the bitterness is still there. Maybe he can ask the cook to start giving Jun pineapples instead of his usual dessert. Aiba always likes people to eat more fruit.

“Hey,” Yoko says when Nino drops his bag onto the floor. “What’s—?” He stops when he finally turns around. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, I had a dick in my mouth.” Nino yanks off his tie and tosses it on the floor of the open bathroom. “Anything new?”

“I’ve seen him _six times_ today,” Yoko says, talking too loudly for his own good. Yoko always sounds like the person he’s talking to his twelve miles away from him. “Six! I recorded all of them, don’t worry. And I sent them to the code guys. I think we should have him in no time.”

“Says the guy who lost a classified file on him.”

“I didn’t say it would be _me_. I meant like the collective we, like the queen says. Someone else can do it. You?”

“Too busy with dick in my mouth.” Nino sits on the bed and promptly falls sideways onto his back, stretching out, reaching towards the headboard with his fingers.

Yoko says something lewd and comes over to the bed. Nino laughs, sits up, and helps Yoko undress. The carpet in the hotel room is not as comfortable as the one in the Oval Office, but at least they don’t have to talk in code.

\--

Sho picks up the phone on the third ring. It’s a habit he’s always had.

“Nino,” he says. For three in the morning he doesn’t sound all that tired, unless Nino is so exhausted himself that he can’t even tell anymore. “How are you?”

Nino can picture it so vividly: Sho sitting behind his polished oak desk with a cup of coffee, glasses on the verge of slipping off his nose, bits of hair sticking up at his crown just begging to be smoothed down. He’d be wearing his pajamas by now, the pinstripe ones, but he’d be far from going to bed. Books would be open, memos would be everywhere. Nino still remembers the colors. He still remembers the way it felt, slipping into that office after midnight with another cup of coffee.

That carpet was thin. Clean, but thin.

“Not bad,” Nino lies. “Still trying to find Okada.”

“I can’t help you with that,” Sho says immediately. “I already told you.”

“I’m not asking for favors.” Nino swallows. He hates this _so much_. Just the sound of Sho’s voice and—fuck. He undoes the button on his trousers and slips his hand in just as slowly. “I’m just telling you that he’s still on the run. Yoko and I might be flying out this week depending on the leads.”

 _Say something_ , Nino thinks, almost hysterically. _Say something, say something, please. Why can’t you talk as much as Jun does?_

“I’ll attend the briefing when it happens,” Sho says, and Nino thinks about Sho taking off his glasses and setting them on the pages of his book, just like he used to before he came to stand before Nino and Nino’s cup of coffee and Nino’s erection. “I came to your last one. It wasn’t for anything important, so I didn’t tell you. Did you see me?”

Nino tries not to moan aloud. “I didn’t see you.” He tries to slow down. “Were you in the back?”

“No, to the side. I guess that’s a good thing though. You’re doing your job correctly,” Sho says, and laughs. Nino digs his heels into the bedspread. “How is Jun…? If it’s okay for me to ask.”

“He’s good,” Nino says. He stops there.

“Good?” Sho echoes. He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice sounds closer, lower, like he’s leaned forward to whisper in Nino’s ear from hundreds of miles away, still holding his coffee cup. “Nino?”

Nino whimpers. He can’t help it.

“Nino,” Sho says again.

It only takes a second. Nino _just_ showered and here he is, sweaty again, hand dirty. “I’m not sorry.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sho says. His voice is back to normal. “On the contrary. It’s my fault.”

Nino sits up. He has nowhere to wipe his hand, so he steps carefully to the bathroom, taking care not to trip on an assortment of Yoko’s things. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to be a press secretary,” Sho says. “I know you wanted the experience—and it’s good for you, it’s really good. You should be doing this.” He stops again, and Nino can hear his breath slow. “But clearly I’m lacking in something that Jun has, otherwise…”

“Not really,” Nino says, fighting the urge to vomit over this turn of conversation. He drops his used towel onto the floor where he threw his tie earlier. “You just don’t talk as much. I—” he begins. “What’s the phrase? I wanted a change of scenery.”

“Oh?” Sho hums. “Is it greener over there?”

“The carpet in the Oval Office is a lot softer,” Nino says, and can’t help but laugh at his own situation.

\--

The next day Nino wakes Yoko up at 4:30 a.m. It takes Yoko almost an hour to get dressed in his suit because he keeps falling asleep in between articles of clothing, so they have to accommodate for that.

“Try not to lose this one,” Nino says after they’re ushered into the limo. He hands Yoko an envelope. It has a big sticker on the front that says ‘I did my best today!’ “I even put that on there so it can make you feel good and you won’t want to get rid of it.”

“Fuck you,” Yoko says, and then looks up, bewildered. “Wait—other way around?”

“Other way around.” Nino has to top with _someone_ , and Yoko is perfect. He complains, but he tries hard, and Nino knows what hard work looks like.

Today’s press briefing is on the same topic it’s been on for the past two weeks: Okada. There isn’t any news, not really, but Nino knows the country likes to at least believe that some progress is being made, so he’ll say something that sounds uplifting and charming and then he’ll leave it to the national media to tear it apart and spit on his name. Nino’s gotten used to it in the past two years, which is why he gets his groceries delivered now. No use leaving the house if people are just going to ask him over the cabbages if the President is planning on withdrawing more troops anytime soon.

\--

PRESS BRIEFING BY PRESS SECRETARY NINOMIYA KAZUNARI, 6/15/2014

James S. Brady Press Briefing Room

11:35 AM EDT

MR. NINOMIYA: Hi, everyone. Good afternoon, the usual. Oh—it’s still morning. Okay. I’m not really awake yet. Neither is the deputy press secretary. We had a rough night. So let’s just do a quick update and then we’ll go to questions. Today the President is going to Japan to meet with Prime Minister Ohno Satoshi to kick off his Asia tour, which as you all know will last just one week. The Prime Minister’s principal hobby is fishing, so they’re going to Iwate prefecture to meet with agricultural groups there and discuss the TPP with them and how it may change in the near future. After Japan, the President will move his activities to China. Which brings us to the matter at hand.

We’re still waiting for any pertinent leads regarding Okada Junichi. The deputy press secretary will bring us up to date.

MR. YOKOYAMA: Yes. Hi again. I’m sure you’ve all been following the story, but just in case…I mean, people tune in late. So if you’re one of those people...the White House is currently following the activities of Okada Junichi, a retired idol, who has apparently bought several thousands of classified documents from an insider group within the NSA and is on the run somewhere in China. The documents he has in his possession are encrypted, and there is no word that he’s managed to crack them, but we did receive a message sent on his behalf a few weeks ago that says he will broadcast whatever sensitive information he finds through the television. Specifically through his old commercials, which are now being re-run during the late night comedy shows broadcast on several channels that have been secretly purchased by the government. So we’ve been watching those closely.

MR. NINOMIYA: I know you’re all looking for answers, but I can assure you all that we’re monitoring the situation with our best men around the clock. No one sleeps, hence the rough nights. But this is our job, and we’re getting closer and closer to a definitive lead each day.

So, that’s all. Okay. Questions?

\--

Sho chokes on his wine. “’Our best men,’” he says, and looks at Nino. “Right. Because your best men lose classified documents.”

“Do you wanna tell the people of your country that, Senator Sakurai? Because I sure as hell don’t.” Nino turns over on the bed and stretches out on his stomach. “Your bed is nicer than all those hotel beds I’ve been staying in,” he mumbles.

“Why all those hotel beds?” Sho places his wine glass on the bedside table and then lies down next to Nino. “You can always stay here.”

“I hate home.” Nino’s apartment reminds him of when he used to have real friends instead of sides. “Plus, Jun pays for the hotels.”

“You can always stay here,” Sho says again, this time a little louder, like maybe Nino didn’t hear him the first time.

“And what?” Nino closes his eyes as he feels Sho’s weight shift; a few seconds later Sho is framing Nino’s head with his forearms and they are nose-to-nose. Sho is hovering; there is a kiss somewhere there, if Nino will accept it, just like he accepted Jun’s dirty offer two years ago.

He breathes. He can feel Sho close in.

“Wait—,” Nino blurts out, suddenly dizzy and hot all at once. “I can’t stay here. It wouldn’t be fair to you—.”

Sho kisses him.

“It’s okay,” Sho says, and laughs a little, their lips brushing. “That’s over. It’s over. It doesn’t matter what you did.”

He swallows. It takes a few seconds for Nino to realize that he’s been clutching at Sho’s shirt this whole time, his grip tight.

“But you should stay here and fix it,” Sho continues. “Please.”

\--

STATEMENT BY THE PRESS SECRETARY ON OKADA JUNICHI

3:04 AM EDT

WE FOUND HIM!!! GOIN’ TO CHINA!!!! SEE YOU IN HELL, OKADA.

(In the backseat of the presidential staff car that picked him up just seconds before, Nino squints hard at his smartphone screen. Then he puts the phone to his ear.

“You must be fucking kidding me,” he says. “Absolutely not.”

“Seriously? You don’t think anyone will find that funny? Come on. The White House is all such serious business,” Yoko whines. He’s in another car, coming from the opposite direction. Both of them are heading towards the airport. “This country needs some humor! You don’t think people will be happy that we finally found Okada? Why not make it a party?”

Nino hangs up.)

\--

The private jet is humming when Nino boards. It’s pitch black outside, and he was forced to leave Sho in the middle of something extremely important which did not involve clothes and instead several clothespins. But they finally have a lead on Okada.

“Welcome to Air Force Sixteen,” Yoko says, almost slurring when Nino sits down next to him, “the airline given to the lowly who work under Jun.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Nino doesn’t move when Yoko’s head falls onto his shoulder. “You act like you’ve never been forced out of bed at three in the morning to catch an international fugitive.”

“Sometimes I really fucking hate—” Yoko starts to say under his breath, but breaks into a sudden yawn. “—This job.”

“Me too.” Nino hands him the blanket that was on his chair. “More than sometimes. So I’m quitting the White House after this term.”

Maybe because it’s three in the morning or maybe because this isn’t actually surprising to him at all, but Yoko doesn’t say anything. He just nods. “Gotcha,” he says, and grins when Nino turns to him. “What?”

“This means you have to give those briefings all by yourself,” Nino says, squinting. “You hate them.”

“Nah.” Yoko yawns again. “I think I’ll quit too. No one else will cover for me if you’re gone.”

Nino shoves Yoko away. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yup,” Yoko says, and shrugs. “Lost that one too.”  



End file.
